


Two is Always Better Than One - Kinktober Day Fifteen - Shapeshifting/Tentacle - (Quefish)

by Blackrayvn



Series: Kinktober [15]
Category: Good Omens (Radio), Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Blow Jobs, Claws, Consent, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Dom/sub, Dominance, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Face-Fucking, Fucking, Gay Sex, Licking, M/M, Multi, Nanny Ashtoreth Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Scratching, Sex, Shapeshifting, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Submission, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:40:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27025975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackrayvn/pseuds/Blackrayvn
Summary: Crowley woke up with an itch, sendingAziraphale a little note, with a touch moreof s domineering feeling, Aziraphalegladly goes to where Crowley tells him.Aziraphale was in no way prepared for the goings-on.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Kinktober [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950499
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31
Collections: Ineffable Kinktober 2020





	Two is Always Better Than One - Kinktober Day Fifteen - Shapeshifting/Tentacle - (Quefish)

**Author's Note:**

> NSFW - NSFW
> 
> TW-not sure, it follows the que, so enjoy!

**Kinktober Day Fifteen - Shapeshifting/Tentacle - (QUEFISH)**

_Two is Always Better Than One_

**[Click for Music!](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi7DcEtKJkCc6SKvv30F13ax) **

It had been a very long time since Ms. Ashtoreth had made an appearance, other than the nanny, of course. Crowley hadn't allowed her to play, and today for some reason, Crowley couldn't keep those thoughts from rolling through his head. In perfect detail, he remembered the last time she played with Aziraphale. Chronologically placed and played out in his mind, or maybe it was just her wanting to be free for a while. Either way, he found himself planning and scheming for that evening. What would be something new, something to do?

Crowley paced his flat, running his fingers gently over his plants, whom shivered in fear and confusion. He stopped as he walked by the first mirror, looking into it, a slight smirk slowly gracing his lips; finding the second mirror in the hall, he found her looking back at him. Turning herself this way and that, sliding her hands over a delicate frame.

Her hair far longer than it had been at any time in the ages that had passed, she decided if it was playtime, she was going to go all out. Reaching her hips, in curls, waves, dark apple red, her eyes glinted mischievousness. Crowley's temptress side wanted to play, then again, who could blame him, Demon!

At the center of this need to play was one Principality. One whom had gotten the better of her some many years ago, having been pinned down by those wings. Wings that made her fingers itch, her mouth water. She shivered and straightened her spine, running her hands along her curves.

The temptress needed something more than last time; he had already had that, she pouted. If she didn't love the plants as much as Crowley did, they would have combusted by the look of desire that crawled across her countenance. Running her hand between her legs, she almost giddily shrieked and clapped. She had an idea that tickled her, and with that, she was off to the bedroom. A change of attire was needed.

At his bookshop, Aziraphale was tentatively going over his books, alphabetizing them, placing them, and all-around a little bored. He hadn't heard from Crowley since the day before once they finally returned from the lake.

Stretching his arms up, he felt over his corporeal form, a frown formed as he poked his midsection. Aziraphale had grown to appreciate his pudge; Crowley found it cute, appealing, he could change it if he wanted, but something always told him Crowley would be disappointed if he wasn't just himself. Probably start feeding him, himself.

A ring of the bookshop bell and his eyes flashed up, taking in who came in, the same postman who delivered to each horseman and then finding Crowley and himself to take away the sword, scales, and everything else? He grinned as images from a past time passed through his mind. He took the letter, thanked the postman, sending him on his way with a blessing of a preferably a wonderful few evenings.

Aziraphale touched the envelope running his fingers over the gold writing, so very elegant, so very tantalizing, the letter alone was dripping with temptation. She knew that he would know and remember...drawing him into her trap. Opening the envelope, he licked his lips unknowingly.

~Mr. Fell  
You are required to be in Mayfair this evening. This isn't a request. You will be here at eight in the evening. Wear whatever you like, you won't be wearing it for long.  
~AC

Aziraphale blinked, reread the letter, and swallowed, closing the envelope and thought about the wording of it. Now Crowley and Ashtoreth were the same, in a way they were, but each had their own personalities to a degree. So the AC could be either. He was a tad nervous, no that wasn't it, looking forward too, no, desperately needing whatever it was going to be, fuck yes.

Aziraphale closed early, went to the mirror, and changed his clothes; typically, his patience wasn't as thin as it was.

"Fuck it."

~Snap~,

Aziraphale could play this game as well, whatever game Crowley was playing. Looking into the mirror, finding himself in anything but his typical attire. Dressed in all black except for his shirt, that was a baby sky blue. A few last-minute adjustments and Aziraphale walked out of his shop and onto the street.

No driver, no Bentley, no bus? No, walking, not bloody likely...he was ordered to be somewhere that still grated oddly against his grain but...

"Fuck it."

~Snap~

Crowley's flat was right there; it was pitch dark, no lights, not even movement. Tilting his head, looking for and feeling for anything from his Demon, nothing... Then as if doused in cold water...

~Azzzirrraaaphallllle...thisssssss way.......~ he stopped. Something from in the opposite direction was calling him; he knew that voice. Slowly he walked towards the voice.

~Azzirrrrrrraphhaaallllle, ohhh, pleasssseeeeee.....~ the voice moaned at him, his breath hitched as his pace picked up.

Looking around him, he recognized where he was. A very long drive; it had since been overgrown, but it changed, shifted, and shimmered; he could catch glimpses of its former glory.

~Pleassssseeee, hurry, Azziirrrrapphaallleeee.....Zirrraaaa.~ He blinked again and kept going finding himself at the house that was once Ms. Ashtoreth home.

Opening the door, Aziraphale walked into the grand hallway; it was empty. The door closed behind him with an audible click as it locked. Feeling demonic magics seal the room.

"Shit."

Unfurling his wings on instinct, they stiffened, letting the edges mold into a blade, dropping his stance just slightly, watching for whatever kept whispering into his ears. Eyes shimmered over him, allowing his celestial form out; he could hear a sigh and then what sounded like slithering around the outskirts of the room.

"What's your plan?" Aziraphale asked, rather sternly.

"I intennnnd to play with you."

Aziraphale wasn't going to make this game easy on either of them; bringing his fingers together, he went to snap, thinking he was going to leave. Until nothing happened, then from two walls, chains flew out, grabbing his wrists, his ankles — a hissing chuckle, a little too evil.

Aziraphale's eyes widened, testing the chains they were made of demonic energy; he pulled and found that they were holding. He was sure that he could break them, but not entirely sure. Behind him, he heard her slither up, she hissed next to his ear, he snapped his head towards her, but she was gone.

He listened to a snap, and the chains tightened, the ones on his ankles pulled back, dropping him to his knees as his arms were extended behind him, causing him to lean forward, his wings still out. He tried to furl them back; nothing happened.

Sitting in a chair in front of him, her eyes the only thing glowing a fiery red, the look of fire in those serpentine eyes.

"Oh angel, there will be no hiding those tonight; all of you are mine. Tonight, I am in control and will tell you what to do."

Aziraphale tried to chuckle, pulling once more on the chains, feeling them not giving any play. As she stood, he found that she was somehow taller than he remembered, her hair falling in waves and curls all around her. Her heels spiked stiletto's, black, her dress black leather, completely open in the front save for the silver lacing holding it together. Strategically placed, the hem gracing the floor it touched, a train of black and red leather flowed behind her.

What caught Aziraphale's eye more than anything was the silver necktie that was nothing but Crowley's; on the end of her nose were his glasses. Her gloved fingers ran under his chin.

"Oh my dear Principality, you will be the one begging, that I can promise you. You forget, he might be a tempter, of humans, but my love, I can tempt you, I was made for what I am going to do to you." she purred in his ear; his mouth went dry as Aziraphale tried to swallow.

Aziraphale abruptly yanked his chin from her hand, his head turning towards her; she grinned wickedly as his eyes started to glow.

"Oh, we won't be having any of that this evening, m'love." he watched her remove the silver scarf from her neck, sliding in behind him, standing between his ankles.

Bending over him she ran her tongue over his ear, letting the scarf fall in front of his eyes and slowly lower.

"Do be good, Angel," a different, slightly lower voice purred in his ear, followed by a very feminine growl.

Aziraphale simply stopped. Slowly he tried to turn his head to see what the fuck was happening behind him. The scarf was abruptly brought back up and tied around his eyes, blinding him.

"I said none of that, m'love" she purred.

Aziraphale inhaled deeply; that was definitely Crowley's scarf; his head was spinning. So many questions of how and why. Before one thought finished, she was back in his ear purring, something tempting; he stopped thinking altogether, everything stopped altogether. There was no sound, just silence; a slither, time stopped.

"Oh, thisss is ssso much fun." the voice was two, both Crowley and Ashtoreth, sounding together. Aziraphale shivered at that thought.

What the hell was he in for. Aziraphale yanked on the chain; it didn't budge, his wings tried to pull him into the air, she quickly snapped her fingers, and the chains bound him tighter.

"Oh m' love, Angel, you aren't going anywhere. Not this time."

Aziraphale heard the unmistakable noise of the serpent coiling in on itself and slithering away. Leaving him like that in the room, this was just a bad idea in general. He could get out if he wanted to, right? He wasn't so sure about this, he was never on this end of things, and he wasn't entirely comfortable, but curiosity was quickly winning out.

Behind him, he felt hands slide down his chest; it was her; he could feel her against his back; she made no noise, just her hands. Her head resting against his back, nimble fingers undid his shirt before snapping it away. His breath hitched when in front of him, he could smell and feel Crowley; he was still warm on his back, his head tried to turn, to be pulled back to the front by Crowley's mouth on his.

Aziraphale's breath hitched and stopped as the scent changed. While he was being kissed, a softer, gentler mouth was kissing him. It pulled a groan out of him; he pushed forward trying to keep that kiss only to have it withdrawn from him, nails dragged down his back, as a tongue ran up his front, suddenly something was pressing against his growing arousal.

Too many sensations in too many places, he panted for a moment, trying to catch his breath. From all around him, he was being pummeled with waves of temptation, desire, want, need, control, desperation, a growing lust. Aziraphale groaned at the onslaught.

Unseen hands slid up his thighs as someone that smelt very much like Crowley and Ashtoreth sat in between his knees. Fingers quickly undid his pants and snapped, he tried to sit back, but the chains kept him kneeling.

A tongue ran up his cock, and wrapped around it, sliding around it over and over again, drawing out stuttered breathes before a hot mouth devoured him. It was almost painful, but not quite enough; he wanted more. His cock was being consumed; something smooth, soft, and yet cold slithered down his back, wrapping around his neck, pulling his head back, causing him to thrust into the mouth that was swallowing him. The tongue pulled him down and into a tight throat that swallowed.

"Ple...Fuck. No."

Just as soon as he almost said the words, practically begged, he didn't. Yet all was gone; he was kneeling again, panting, and on edge nearly there.

"Open your mouth, Angel."

Crowley said, rather firmly, there was no hint in Crowley's tone that suggested Aziraphale not do as he was being told. Aziraphale considered for a moment not doing it. An overly gentle hand was placed on his jaw, in his ear a compelling voice...

"Pleasssse, m'love, pleasssse meee."

Aziraphale's mouth opened; Crowley slid his cock into Aziraphale's mouth, his fingers into his hair, holding him still while he slowly slid in and out of that sinful mouth. Crowley moaned before the voice changed; Aziraphale's mouth was still full; it may have been a feminine voice, but the hand tightened, and she fucked his mouth with abandon. Aziraphale leaned into it, taking all of it into his mouth; as he moaned, they were gone. He dropped his head in a groan of agony.

Aziraphale was left again, his want more than evident, as twice now he was neglected, with no release. Angellic hearing was keen now, fully alert to the noises around him. Listening for that slither, listening for anything. He heard her heels and turned his head in that direction. Her hand slid across his face; she hooked her leg over his shoulder.

"Use your tongue, m'love, you were so considerate last time."

Aziraphale didn't even question this time and did as he was told. His tongue tasted her, and he moaned; Aziraphale remembered the last time he had her; she was a mix of everything he loved about how Crowley tasted, and she was a hint of rose and vanilla, one of his new favorite teas.

Aziraphale found her clit; she pressed it against his tongue, moaning loudly as he did.

"Faster m'love, fuck..."

Licking further up, Aziraphale was a bit surprised when the sound of the moan changed and was now his wrapped around Crowley's cock. Aziraphales' head spun, not that he cared, but as soon as he moaned, they were gone again.

This was too much; he needed whatever they were going to do to them. Having Crowley changing between forms was beyond mind-blowing; he didn't know they could do that for fuck's sake. On his back, something snapped, he leaped forward, again he snapped against his back, on the third time Aziraphale moaned, Crowley's lips quieted him, claws dragged down his back, his front was touched gently, he moaned into his Crowley's ever-changing lips. His tongue flicked inside Aziraphale's mouth.

"Please." he quietly asked, ever so quiet, it almost unheard.

He could feel the lips in front of him curl into a wicked grin. Whip, whip, snap, snap, dragggg, more and more feelings teasingly being implemented against his body, moans, breathes danced from wall to wall within the room where he had been chained.

Kisses traced down his back, an open mouth, with what felt like fangs dragged along his neckline, hands traveled down his front, a snap in the air, and the chains pulled tighter, his wings extended on their own.

Hands traveled over the prominent wing bones, grazing nails into the flesh; Aziraphale shuddered and moaned. Hands ran through and touched every feather, slowly, kissing each one; Aziraphale was a moaning writhing mess as he pulled against unforgiving chains. Delicate fingers, feeling where his wings connected, was too much; he was on the verge of cumming when he received another snap.

Dropping back onto his knees, hands pushed him all the way as his back finally touched the cold floor under him.

"Not yet m' love, o-Oh Angel, not yet, pleasssee. Angel, m'love, wait for us..." they removed what clothing was left covering Aziraphale.

Aziraphale felt the snake slither up his legs, lifting itself off his legs; on either side of his hips, he could feel the snake turn back into whatever they had deemed they needed to be for this.

"Beg me m' love, pleeassssee Angel, tell me..." they tempted him.

Aziraphale was beyond caring who did what anymore; they won this one.

"Please, god, please..." he felt the shudder and tremble of them.

Aziraphale, still blind, felt them slide onto his cock heavy with need, taking it fully and moving slowly at first, grinding into him; he could hear their breathing stopping and starting as they moved.

The chains tightened, not letting him do anything; they fucked him on their own accord. A hand reached forward and took his hand, the chain let go of that wrist, bringing it to and wrapping around Crowley's cock.

Aziraphale's' hand was underneath Crowley's as he moved it the way they wanted. They moaned loudly; Aziraphale panted and begged; he didn't care. Then the chains were gone when they started to get too close.

"Fuck us Aziraphale, Angel, m'love, Now."

Crowley's mouth crashed down onto Aziraphale's; as he pushed up into her hard, he rolled them over, never removing the scarf; he wasn't told too. He kept his hand around Crowley's cock, fucking them both; he was getting the upper hand, he slammed into her and let go of Crowley.

A hand on the floor, before he slid his hands down, hitching a leg up onto his hip, gaining leverage, a tangled moan of both voices erupted from deep in their chest.

A wicked grin crossed the Principality, who they had definitely worked into a frenzy; he slid his finger further back and into Crowley, just below her; the gasp would have been heard in London if not for the room being sealed. He kept sliding his finger inside them while fucking them; she was so wet already that when he slid out and into Crowley, it just went.

He had never heard a sound leave either of them like this. They could feel his grin and tried to stop, but it was too late; he was doing as told; they said to fuck them, so he was. He hooked the other leg over his shoulder and leaned in with all his weight holding them there. He fucked Crowley and then would switch to fucking her; Aziraphale was too close. Playing their game, he asked,

"Can I cum, and where do you want me too?" their breath hitched, with a groaning

"Yessss, everywhere, anywhere.." he reached and grabbed a hand and placed it on Crowley's cock,

"Please touch yourself."

They did; his hand grabbed the other hand and slid it to just below their cock.

"Please touch yourself." they did.

Between gasps and moans, was Aziraphales own.

"Cum for me, both of you, pleasssse."

They called his name in a tangle of voices, a web of temptations. As they did, they clamped down around him; Aziraphale came inside them. He could barely breathe, not that he needed to, but as soon as he collapsed on top of them, they were gone. He heard the snap; he was back at his bookshop, dressed, clean, and on his couch. Aziraphale was still panting and exhausted.

"So, not a dream then."

The bell rang, and Crowley walked in, looking rather smug. Aziraphale looked at him, confused; his hand reached down to slide over and realized he still had the silver scarf. He looked up at Crowley, who didn't.

"Hey there, Aziraphale, whatcha up to anything fun?" he smirked until Aziraphale lifted the scarf, Crowley touched his neck.

"Shit."

"My turn."

Crowley stopped dead in his tracks.

"Fuck."


End file.
